Blood Lust AU Sayidcentric
by WhoKnowsWhy
Summary: by Islandpalm and WhoKnowsWhy: Events on the island take a strange, dark turn.


**Blood Lust**

Sayid careened through the jungle, thrashing through the vines and foliage until at last he stumbled onto the beach. His breathing was labored, but there was relief and comfort in the familiar. Several survivors were already up in the early morning darkness. Had he been gone all night? Doing what? The events of the evening remained jumbled and unclear. There had been whispers…the whispers of "others" that drew him into the darkness. The only vivid recollections were of disturbing sensations, a coldness followed by a sudden rush of warmth, and then the unsettling coldness once more.

He felt light-headed but managed to nod as Ana passed him. He stretched his neck and flinched at the unfamiliar pain. He brought his fingers up to touch the two swollen dots on his neck. Perhaps Sawyer had a mirror so that he could inspect them further. An animal bite, no doubt. That would at least explain his confusion. He would seek Jack out, but first he needed to sleep. Sayid could not recall that last time he had slept during the day. Not since the night campaigns on the outskirts of Kerbalah. Adrenaline kept him alert through the assaults, but as daylight approached exhaustion prevailed. He needed to lie down…now.

He all but collapsed into his shelter. Just a few hours of sleep and he would be a new man. His eyes closed the instant he hit the ground. An image of Ana emerged almost immediately. She was unwelcome. Ana was the last person he wished to see as he drifted off. He attempted to block her face, but was drawn to the soft caramel of her throat and the vein that pulsed when she was agitated. He pushed the image away and shifted his body weight. If he could get comfortable, sleep would find him quickly.

Instead she found him again, with dark eyes and bare shoulders, shoulders that led to the curve in her neck and the veins that pulsed in time to his rhythmic breathing. If only he could touch her neck, trace it's line with his mouth, taste the salt of her skin. Sayid could feel the blood racing through his own body now. The pounding in his head drowning out the pounding of the surf. There was arousal in his need to caress her throat…no, in his desire to consume her.

He sat up wide-eyed, his breath ragged, his palms sweating. Perhaps it was not Jack he should seek out, but Danielle. He was bordering on insanity…the sickness.

He touched his face with his hands. He was hot, then cold. Was he feverish? Delirious? Was this a symptom of the sickness? This strange desire to...? Why did the image of the pulsing vein in Ana's throat taunt him like a mirage in the desert?

Hurriedly he threw things into his pack; water, a clean shirt. His eyes swept the tent and found the rifle. Danielle's rifle. He had not returned it to her after finding Gale in the jungle. He had meant to, but later he realized that with Sawyer in possession of the other guns it was too valuable to return. Danielle had proved herself capable of defense without it. Now he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. He would find Rousseau. And if his symptoms were those of the sickness she spoke of Sayid knew that she would have no qualms about doing what must be done.

He ducked out of the shelter. The orange globe of the sun was barely visible above the shifting waves of blue, yet the weak light made him hotter, hurt his eyes. He moved quickly into the jungle, sighing with relief as the shadowy darkness enveloped him.

The wounds on his neck throbbed. He pushed his way through the underbrush, instinctively avoiding the patches of sunlight that splattered across the forest floor. His senses seemed heightened, animalistic. He heard the rustle of leaves far above his head in the canopy, the small scratching sounds of a rodent moving through a rotten log, the heavy tread of footsteps approaching on the path.

"Sayid," Hurley came lumbering into view. "Dude, you don't look so good. You sick? Jack's not in the hatch if you're looking for him. He went to the beach."

Sayid looked past the big man. "I feel fine," he lied.

"O...K...if you say so," Hurley cut a wide path around him. "Man, what happened to your neck? Something bite you?" Hurley laughed. "Hey, maybe it was Dracula!. Maybe we're really in Transylvania," he whispered. "Seen any bats flying around?"

Sayid continued to stare and did not answer. Hurley shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Kidding Dude, just kidding. Chill. Gotta get to the beach. Later."

Dracula? Transylvania? What was Hurley talking about? Sayid watched the heavyset young man walk away. Sayid was feeling better. Whatever had been disturbing him seemed to have dissipated. The lightheadedness was gone. In fact, he felt good. Better than he had felt in a long time. Better than he had felt since...

The sound of breathing and a movement off the path dew his thoughts away from unpleasant memories.. He turned his head to see Libby emerge from the foliage. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"You scared me!" she gasped. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she flashed a smile.

"What are you doing in the jungle alone?" Sayid asked.

"Um..." Libby blushed. "Something people usually do alone," When his eyes registered only confusion, she laughed. "Are you _trying _to embarrass me?" She came nearer, as if to say something more and her lips moved close to his ear, but Sayid heard nothing. He was overwhelmed by the somehow familiar scent of the blood rushing beneath her skin, the heat radiating from her. He took a step back.

Libby looked at him, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? Did I shock you? Sorry." She lifted the hair from her neck with one hand, pulling it up and quickly securing it with a band from around her wrist. "There, that's better. How can it be this hot this early in the day?"

Sayid's eyes were drawn to her now exposed throat. The skin was smooth and pale there. He longed to bury his head in the curve of her shoulder and..and what? The same visions he had experienced in the tent flooded his brain, only unlike Ana, this woman stood in front of him. His soldier instincts told him that overpowering her would be easy. The assault would be unexpected but, he perceived, not entirely unwelcome. There was something lush and erotic about the psychologist. How had he not noticed it before?

He met her eyes and stepped toward her.

"What?" She still smiled, but there was confusion in her voice, and her eyes darted as if noticing for the first time that they were alone.

He closed the space between them, resting one hand on her shoulder as he gently brushed her cheek with the other. She relaxed with a sigh and closed her eyes. The delicate blond lashes fluttered against her cheek.

Sayid tried to read her. Perhaps she would be a willing participant in whatever he desired. His fingers ran down the length of her neck, lingering for just a moment to feel the current beneath her flesh. Libby gently leaned in to kiss his lips. She felt soft and warm and alive. As her lips parted, he was struck by the heat, the exhilaration. A startling hunger surfaced as he tightened his grip around her.

"This is acceptable to you?" He was not sure how he had the wherewithal to speak, nor if he cared about her answer, but he would prefer if this were easy, if his need were her need.

"I'm a big girl. I know what I'm getting into." Libby's head tilted coyly.

Sayid almost smiled. No, she had no idea what she was getting into. Did he? He craved her in a way that was completely foreign to him. She had ignited something he would not be able to extinguish. He pulled her closer, kissing her more forcefully.

Libby pulled back. "Easy. I like it a little slower."

He nodded, implying that he understood, but in truth he understood nothing, the throbbing in his head prevented any understanding. His parched throat understood only the undeniable thirst. A thirst only she could quench.

His lips touched her neck, her yielding, supple neck. She moaned, as he tasted her. It was more than he could bear. He relished the thought of her writhing beneath him as his mouth devoured her. He would take the warm, crimson liquid he craved. He instinctively applied pressure.

Libby lurched backward and shoved him away with both hands. Before he could assess the situation, her hand made contact with his face. His face stung.

The slap shocked him back to himself. He reached for her."I did not intend..."

"You bit me!" Libby cried, her hand clutching her throat. "I'm as passionate as the next girl, I promise you, but I'm not into the rough stuff. Clear?" She locked eyes with him and let her hand drop. The tiniest line of blood trailed from the mark on her neck.

Sayid swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to capture that flow with his tongue, to drink of her until he was filled. But if his hunger was to be sated he would have to play this little game, wait until she was distracted by her own desires, until they were somewhere more concealed . She had not run away. That, at least, held promise.

"I am sorry," he said. "I was...overwhelmed." True. Just not in the way she assumed.

Libby smiled seductively and took his hand. To his surprise, she turned, walking off the path, deeper into the jungle. His heart beat fast with the anticipation of renewing their embrace. The twisting arms of a banyan tree enveloped them. Libby stopped and reclined back against the trunk. She crooked her finger at him. "Come here," she whispered.

He approached slowly. He would not rush things this time. Placing his hands against the trunk on either side, he kissed her gently and her mouth opened to his tongue. She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His head spun with desire, the now familiar throbbing obscuring everything else.

His hands slipped down to her waist, the heat of her skin seeping through the thin cloth. Libby inhaled sharply as he ran his thumb under her shirt, moving in slow circles. She thrust her hips forward against his.

Sayid's breath caught in his throat. He would wait no longer. He broke the kiss, sliding his mouth downward, back to the lusciously warm curve of her neck. Libby's hands stroked his back, moving up under his shirt, cool against his skin. She groaned softly but made no move to resist this time as he sank his teeth into her flesh. Her blood flowed freely down his throat as he sucked greedily. The pounding rhythm of her heartbeat filled his ears. Soon her hands no longer moved and she was limp in his arms.

Without warning a hand gripped his shoulder roughly and pulled him away. Libby slumped to the ground and Sayid whirled savagely to face the interloper.

"Easy, now, Mohammad," Sawyer drawled. "Ya don't wanna kill her, do ya?"

Sayid stared at the southerner. What did the man think he had seen?

The familiar smirk spread across Sawyer's face. "Your first one, huh? I got a little carried away myself," he chuckled. "Almost as good as sex, ain't it?"

"You? Also?" Sayid said, shaking his head. "What is happening to us?"


End file.
